Sixth Sense
by Anonymous.Publishers
Summary: House has returned from Mayfield. As he awaits regaining back his license, he finds that some things have changed. Things--even he can't explain. Is he still insane, or is this really just.....a sixth sense?
1. Chapter One

Disclaimer: I do not own House or any of the characters used in this story. The plot, including all poetry submitted into these chapters is original.

Preface - Present

_House_  
I believe in hallucinations.  
I believe in delusions.  
I believe in vivid dreams.

I don't accept a greater power.  
I don't accept the afterlife.  
And I don't accept heaven and hell.

But _this_ was--none of the aforementioned.  
Witnesses have called me crazy, believing and claiming that I was far past insanity. Some thought it was best for me to return back to the asylum--

I don't think I'm crazy. I'm insane--in a reckless and juvenile way. But I'm not crazy.  
It's nothing I can explain. Only something I can show you. Picture in your mind. Help me out with this--

The only conclusion I've come to is:

A sixth sense.

---

_Six Months earlier_

House had been released from Mayfield, not too long ago. Working on retaining back his license, for the time being he was put under a watch or probation, within a six month period to determine whether or not he was mentally stable enough to return to his job at Princeton-Plainsbro. At the end of the probation, the board and or panel would decide. For now, House needed to appear sane, in no doubt he was, but most of his actions sometimes said otherwise.  
Since his return, the only person to really avoid him was Cuddy. During his absence, Wilson eventually informed her about everything--she however already had a feeling--with House's consent. Since then, she has refused to talk to him, let alone look at him, unless necessary.  
Everyone else welcomed him back with open arms.

House was now dead asleep on Wilson's couch in a semi-darkness. The fluorescent lights in his room were off, but a dim lighting from the outside seemed to illuminate the room. Dressed in what seemed to be fairly casual clothing, he rested soundly on the couch. What woke him up, however, was the friendly cunning oncologist we know as Wilson. He walked in casually, omitting House from the scene as he dealt with one of his patients. House jerked as Wilson spoke in a loud tone towards her. He sat upright and realized he was dealing with a patient. At first he rubbed his eyes trying to regain consciousness, and he did a second take on her.  
_She looks young. She's pretty. Very guilty of such,_ he thought. And as he examined her from head to toe, she gave occasional smiles and glances back at him. After Wilson dismissed her, she smiled at him again before closing the door.

"File," House called out. Wilson tossed the file over like a frisbee, and House examined the file.

**Name: Strong, Antonette J.  
Sex: Female  
Age: 14  
History: Biological parents health is unknown. Foster child at age six. Five foster homes within timespan of five years. Current family is Lucas and Haley Strong. Two sons, Matthew and Daniel Strong.  
Diagnosis: Ovarian cancer.  
Prognosis: Stage II.  
Current Treatment: Unilateral oophorectomy (left ovary), with regular rounds of chemo.**

"She's lucky," he finally said tossing the file back to Wilson. "you rarely catch ovarian in stage I or II."  
"That's what I said to her." he replied apparently busy at his desk.  
"Where's Foreman?"  
"Why you ask," Wilson said, apparently uninterested.  
"Passed by the office."  
"Well, not that you would care, his mother passed."  
"What'd she have?"  
"Alzheimer's finally caught up with her and she developed pneumonia."  
"Is that why he left yesterday?"  
"He had gotten a phone call from his father." House had a tense face on as Wilson fixed around at his desk. He was preparing to leave again.  
"Mommy put you in charge? Or did he ask you to take over?"  
"Cuddy."  
"How is she?" he asked with a slight concern in his voice.  
"She's fine. She just doesn't want to see you," Wilson retorted opening the door. House followed him back to what was now Foreman's office, to watch the differential take place. He didn't stay in the outer office with them all, but he sat in his old recliner and watched them hard at work through the windows. Looking around his old office, it seems that Foreman was reluctant to change anything around except whatever was on the desk. From what he remembered, nearly everything looked the same. Within minutes of the differential, Cuddy walked in and began talking to all of them. Informing them on the patients worsening condition. Wilson had refused to allow House in on any of the cases, due to his probation protocol, but every now and again, Wilson would ask the occasional "hypothetical" question.  
Before Cuddy had left the room, a quick glance had been thrown his way, and she immediately turned the other cheek and walked out. Things still hadn't been worked out between them. To mend this, he decided to follow her. Wilson looked suspiciously at him as he limped after her--he knew he would do something stupid.  
Upon entering the elevator, House encountered a man. The doors closed, before he addressed him.

"Are, you Dr. House? Dr. Gregory House?" the man asked. He was an inch shorter than House, and had beautiful round brown eyes, and short hair. His smile looked crafted, almost too perfect. Curious of what he might say, House replied to him.

"Yes."  
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, I'm Michael, Michael Travis."  
"Am I supposed to know you--?"  
"No, but I figured Allison would've mentioned me."  
"Allison as in Allison Cameron?" he asked suspiciously.  
"Yes. Do you happen to know where she works in this hospital?"  
"She manages the ER, why are you her secret love affair or something?" he asked sarcastically. The elevator doors opened and the began to walk out.  
"I'd talk more but I have to head out, God's calling."  
"Are you some kind of alter boy or something?"  
"Let her know I dropped by? Michael Travis." House gave a curt nod and they parted their ways out of the elevator. Moving for the clinic to find Cuddy, he glanced back as he pushed through the doors of the clinic, but he was already gone.  
Then what seemed to be out of no where, Wilson had pulled House aside.

"Do you want her to hit you? Because she'll do it."  
"Who," House asked, distracted.  
"CUDDY."  
"Right."  
"Can you focus?"  
"What's Cameron's brother's name?" he asked, still staring at the entrance doors outside the clinic.  
"Jared, why?"  
"You know a Michael Travis?"  
"Don't think so. He know Cameron?"  
"He asked for her. And he knew my name."  
"I'll ask her, next time I get a chance. But right now I suggest you get your ass upstairs before she sees you down here."  
"Right." they both walked out of the clinic and headed for the elevators. The only thought he could process was the name Michael Travis. Why was it so significant that he had known his name, and how he connected to Cameron.


	2. Chapter Two

_House  
I can't say I believe in hope.  
I can't say I never did.  
I can say it was there.  
And I can say it was taken away.  
Looking over this a thousand times.  
Still makes no sense.  
Am I really going crazy?  
Or have I hopped the fence?  
Truth can lie in people  
portraying legit and pure  
but when it comes to test  
they all aren't so sure.  
I'm not saying hope is still irrelevant  
I'm not saying I'm going insane  
I'm not saying truth is dead  
I'm saying all this crap is a pain._

---

Within a week, Foreman had returned to his hierarchy, and began immediately. Cuddy had insisted to allow him a vacation, but he refused. Even Wilson, Thirteen and Taub second that, but he still refused.  
House decided to step back from the action, and silence his opinion. House had known about his mother for the years they worked together, and despite his satisfaction to the fact that Foreman refused his vacation and stay to work, he still partially agreed to even a few days of solace.  
Cuddy hadn't talked to Wilson, besides work issues, in a long time. Since House had always been present with him, she seldom came to see him. Wilson pretended he hadn't noticed, but it bothered him to a point. Nothing he couldn't handle, however.  
Staying low a possible, House switched his hideouts back and forth among Wilson's office and the fifth and second floor stairwell. His place was constantly in the stairwells--no one except Wilson would know to look there. Trying to stress out the pain in his leg by causing more pain, he would walk up and down a flight of stairs, continuously before giving a five minute break. Then he'd return again.  
On the fifth floor stairwell today, House had spent at least an hour on his new way of "physical therapy". After the hour had passed, Wilson called him out for lunch, and they took a booth far back in a corner. Discreet enough to not be noticed by anyone, and in a perfect position to scope out the entire room. Wilson brought only one tray, but the actual food was made for two--House had refused to go up.

"If you knew you'd be in so much pain, you shouldn't have spent an hour doing it." Wilson uttered sternly.  
"Part of my new physical therapy--ah--it works well enough."  
"Right. Like Watson would allow you to do something like that. Your insane way of healing your leg is to cause more pain, of course they would promote that. The sentence sells itself."  
"Watson said--"  
"I know, I was there. He said, a reasonable period of time. Like ten to fifteen minutes."  
"Watson's an idiot." House widened his eyes and took half of the sandwich Wilson had ripped apart.  
"You talk to Cameron yet?" Wilson looked up at him and finished swallowing his water before responding.  
"Is it urgent to know?"  
"I want to let her know to inform any of her buddies outside the hospital, to never approach me."  
"Why you so sure it was a friend?"  
"You indifferent?"  
"It could've been a relative. They asked you, so its someone who knows she worked for you, or at least go confused and thought she was still working for you--relative who hasn't been in touch."  
"Or her ex, who found out she's gotten hitched?"  
"Coming to kill Chase? Yes, that does sound plausible." Wilson uttered sarcastically.  
"Just because its a guy, doesn't mean its her friend. She's had relationships besides her dead husband and her living one."  
"And you know that because?"  
"We used to talk."  
"You dated her didn't you?"  
"Oh God, no."  
"Yes, you did!"  
"Annoyingly moral, does that ring a bell?" Wilson defended.  
"You don't care about that. You probably asked her out, she came up with the excuse that she did have a boyfriend at the time and there goes your heart to heart conversation."  
"Or she just likes to talk to me? Because I'm good company?"  
"She said no because you're not damaged. Why you think she asked me out?"  
"That is--not true. Look at Chase."  
"Her breaking point."  
"So every guy she's been with--however many there actually was--before Chase was damaged?" he took Wilson's cookie, and bit into it before replying with a sinister smile. Wilson just rolled his eyes as they continued to finish off their--Wilson's lunch.  
After, House returned to Wilson's office, while he went to the clinic to finish up the rest of his hours for the week. Upon entering the clinic, he ran into Cameron.

"Oh, hi Wilson."  
"Hi--yeah I've been meaning to talk to you."  
"I'm kinda busy right now, I just came down here to talk to Cuddy really quick. The ER's a mess."  
"With patients right, it will be really quick." she sighed. He continued and began to describe the man House had seen.  
"Did--he happen to catch the name?" she asked calmly.  
"A Michael I believe. Michael Travis, sound familiar?"  
"Um--I--" she had a confused and curious face as she struggled to come with an answer. She took a large breath before replying fully.  
"Sound familiar? Of course it sounds familiar. I.." she covered her mouth and bowed her head. Wilson put his hands on her shoulder and asked what was wrong.  
"He couldn't have seen him Wilson. That wasn't his name."  
"I'm sorry, was it a relative you're in bad terms with? A friend? Ex-boyfriend? I'm positive that was his name, House had--"  
"It's not--it couldn't have been his name. Because that was my husband's name. My _deceased_ husband's name." Wilson held back his expression and told her House might have been mistaken, and assured her that it was a common name anyway. As she walked out, settled down, Wilson finally let his shock fill his face. Mouth slightly open and eyes in a confused squint, he walked out of the clinic and thought of any alternatives to replace this particular scenario.


	3. Chapter Three

"I'm not going insane--again." House uttered at Wilson defensively. After talking to Cameron, he had immediately returned to his office to confront House. He was now arguing with House while making constant hand gestures at his desk, as House tried ignoring him from the couch.  
"I didn't say you were. You were probably mistaken on the name." he stated. He shut his eyes and pressed his fist up against his forehead, attempting to rationalize things.  
"You're about to imply it."  
"Shut up House."  
"Why are you stressed?"  
"I'm not stressed. I'm thinking."  
"You think I'm right."  
"No. I think you're seeing dead people."  
"I _saw_ and _talked_ to someone. You believe me, so you're twisting this into making me right so you don't have tell Cuddy--that I just might be hallucinating. Again."  
"I'm trying to--look past this. I uh--no. You're not insane. You just got out of there."  
"Maybe--being there with no reason actually made me crazy. Now that I actually have a problem they let me out--doesn't make sense does it?" he asked sarcastically.  
"You had a problem. You went, you fixed yourself. This is--"  
"Insane?"  
"You know what, we can deal with this later. Toni's coming in soon so."  
"I don't remember you having a patient--"  
"Atonette? Does that ring a bell? You read her entire file? She likes being called Toni. I personally agree, the more simple it is--"  
"Strong, right." he began to think about her again and while Wilson saw his face, he rolled his eyes and looked back down at his paperwork.  
"She's fourteen, House."  
"I'm well aware Wilson. I'm not a pedophile."  
"The way you looked at her before certainly made you look so."  
"And you would know." suddenly she had walked in. Surprised to see House again, her brows raised and she gave a smile towards him. He just gave half a smile back, along with a strange stare. She sat down in front of Wilson. While talking, she threw occasional glances back at House, who was staring intently--digging holes in her neck.  
"House, what the hell are you doing?"  
"Nothing, Jim. What are you doing?"  
"I think you're creeping the hell out of my patient--"  
"I'm fine, Dr. Jimmy." she addressed him playfully. House's smile grew bigger, and Wilson had a slight look of disbelief.  
"I like her." House uttered with a smirk. Knowing that Wilson would retort with a pissed off tone, he got up from the couch and left, wandering around the halls and floors aimlessly, avoiding everyone else. When turning a corner, in a split second his sight had been compromised by crashing into a figure. They both fell onto the floor, and sighed in pain. Opening his eyes, he saw Cuddy walking away.  
"You used to respect me more being a cripple than being fully functional! Now I'm not too sure!" he had called out. She was already several feet away from him when she stopped dead in her tracks, reluctant to turn around. He struggled to get up, using the wall as a lift. He quickly limped over to her, whose head was now bowed.  
"Look--there's no use in you avoiding me forever. I don't even know why--" he stopped as she sniffled out of no where. He couldn't see her face, but he knew she was crying.  
"What are the tears for."  
"Nothing. Just let me be, House. I'm trying to walk away here?" she continued to walk away in a stressful manner and went straight for the elevator. She didn't even turn herself within, she just walked in straight, allowing the doors to close without looking back. Deciding not to follow her, he walked back to Wilson's office, running into Strong.  
"Dr. House!" she called out. She saw him turn the corner towards the office, and met him half way. They then went toward the elevators, going for the lobby.  
"What'd Wilson say after the addressing of 'Dr. Jimmy'?" he asked curiously.  
"He's a really good doctor. Very nice. He doesn't mind me throwing a couple laughs his way."  
"That's interesting. He just bitches at me when I do."  
"Depends on the jokes. He might not actually be bitching. He could be just angry because he knows they're true."  
"Right." he had a sense of entertainment, along with admiration in his voice at this new patient. The doors opened, and they began to walk out together into the lobby.  
"You coming back for follow ups?"  
"Kinda have to don't I? I don't know. I got a feeling this thing isn't over yet."  
"Thought they cut out your ovary?"  
"Should be that simple right," she asked as they stopped at the doors. She continued.  
"I get hunches. I'm usually right. Sometimes that isn't always a good thing."  
"So you think you're still dying." she laughed and then said, "If you wanna put it that way, yeah I guess so."  
"Yeah well, life's a bitch. I've learned to live with that, so should you."  
"You sure you've learned to live with that?"  
"Why? I sound uncertain? Doubtful because I got a bum leg? No wait--that actually influences that."  
"You can sound certain all you want. You can say you've accepted the facts of life. You can act like you have. Doesn't mean it's all legit. To be honest, I don't think anyone fully accepts it. It's natural not to."  
"Lots of thought put into this. Very in-depth conversation for a first meeting."  
"It never hurt anybody."  
"But it's not rational."  
"It has to be rational to make sense? Are you one of _those_ people?" she asked with a smile. But before he could answer, a car pulled up and a man gestured her into the car.  
"Good talk, Dr. House."  
"Enough with the 'doctor', way too formal for me." he said, as she darted out the doors. Smiling at their rather pleasant conversation, he walked back to Wilson's office, not even thinking about his previously emerged problem.


End file.
